Glitter
by GulaGardinerPunktCom
Summary: England is overworked and has slept too little. America decides to show up.  Hints of USUK, quite silly .


**Title:** Glitter  
**Genre:** Humour  
**Pairing(s):** USUK (well, hints of it)  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word count:** 905  
**Warnings:** None, silly and not very good? XD

**Notes:** Written for the Special Relationship Sweethearts Week on livejournal.  
**Summary:** England is overworked and has slept too little. America decides to show up.

XOX

England stared at his paperwork absently. The words and figures slowly started to blur together into one big black blob.

He rubbed his tired eyes; never again would he work non-stop for three days, especially not following several weeks of hard work. When he'd walked past the hall mirror on his way to get some more tea he'd accidentally glanced at his reflection. And hadn't that been lovely? Having been holed up inside for as long as he had and with his completely lack of sleep his skin had gone a near sickly pale colour and the bags under his eyes had turned heavy and purple.

Part of him wanted to go sleep for a few days and part of him knew that he had to finish his report. No time to sleep for England. Just more and more work. If he hadn't been a nation, England was sure he'd collapsed days ago. As it was, he was running on his last reserves.

Making the tea went on autopilot, bring out the tea kettle, fill it with water, put it on the stove and so on and so forth. His thoughts had dimmed to an absent murmur in the back of his head; after all, when is one ever completely free of thoughts? He stared out the window at the absolutely lovely weather. How come the weather was always so lovely when England couldn't enjoy it? There had to be some kind of conspiracy behind it, he thought, but at the prospect of sounding like one of America's conspiracy theorists he dismissed it. No conspiracy, just bad luck. Yes. Just bad luck.

Sitting back down by his desk with a fresh cup of steaming Earl Grey, England sighed heavily. Only a few more days of heavy labour and he would be free for a week-long break. It would be heavenly he was sure. He could catch up on his gardening and his embroidery and he would finally have time for the faeries (and they were getting a bit restless after week without him having time for them, England just knew it).

He wasn't sure how long he'd been working when the shrill sound of his phone ringing startled him out of the half asleep state he'd been in. Glancing at his papers he found that he had actually gotten a lot done even though he couldn't seem to remember what it was all about. With another heavy sigh he picked up the phone.

"Arthur Kirkland speaking." His voice sounded just about as tired as he felt, England noted with slight annoyance.

"England! It's me, America!" Came an enthusiastic reply from the other end of the phone. England sighed again.

"What do you want, America?" He didn't have the patience nor the time to deal with the other at the moment so he wanted this phone call to be over with as soon as possible.

"Actually, I was just calling to say I'll be at your house in ten minutes because you keep yelling at me for showing up unannounced, so I'm announcing!"

Before England could stop himself he'd already slammed the received down and his head against the desk. America was an _idiot_.

XOX

When England opened the door America stared at him very strangely. Then just suddenly left and chased after the taxi he'd just gotten out of. Not quite what England had expected nor been prepared for. England slammed door shut and his head against it. Fuck America.

XOX

The second time England opened the door for America about thirty minutes later, damn his manners, he was once again unprepared for what America was going to do to. This time, however, America didn't run off. No. America running off would have been preferable to what actually did happen.

England considered himself a gentleman who only lost his temper when the situation called for it. And having a jar of _glitter_ thrown into his face was quite frankly a situation that deserved losing one's temper in.

It wasn't until one black eye and a few bruises and bite marks later that America managed to put a stop to England's rather violent rampage upon his person.

"Dude! What the hell, England?" American demanded, voice a strange mix of respectful, affronted and just a tiny bit fearful.

"Why the bloody hell did you throw glitter in my face, you _wanker_?" His voice was slightly breathless as he'd just had quite a bit of exercise consisting of beating America up.

"Well, see, you're really pale, England. Like, _really_ pale, even more so than normal!" America exclaimed as if that explained everything. England just raised an eyebrow and growled at the younger nation. "And you have really dark purple bags under your eyes so I thought: 'hey, if England only glittered he would really look like a vampire from Twilight,' so I decided to test my theory. And I was right, when the sun makes the glitter, uh, glitter, you really _do_ look like a Twilight vampire!"

England wasn't sure if he should be flattered that America apparently found him attractive (because the vampires were supposed to be inhumanly attractive) even as run down as he was at the moment or if he should be insulted for being compared to anything that had anything to do with Twilight.

In the end, he opted to just go back to trying to strangle America. It seemed like the best choice.

**The End**


End file.
